Crying Wolf
by bubblegum-buddy
Summary: For a moment, all was forgotten. The Wolfbane case, the Phantomhive boy, my own fading memory... Wrapped up in your arms, I forgot it all, every time you said the fateful words, "Yes, Your Grace."  Rating may or may not rise in the future.
1. Chapter Zero: Prologue

Hi there, everyone! Thank you so much for dropping by to read this, it really means a lot to me. This story is my baby, my pride and joy, and I really hope that this chapter catches your interest and entices you to read more. I promise you, it will be a ride worth taking a spin on!

Disclaimer: I do not own _Black Butler_, nor do I own any of its characters. Only those I have created are mine, and this plotline is also mine, but the idea and the original characters belong to Yana Toboso. Please support her by buying the DVDs or manga!

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Zero: Prologue<strong>_

"_This is what you want? This is what you get."_

_- "The Order of Death," Public Image Ltd._

The wind howled. It was a dark, stormy night, almost as though Nature herself had begun to cry in utter anguish, and through the wind, she wordlessly proclaimed all her hurts to all her inhabitants. Torrents of rain poured down from the heavens, hitting the sides of the stately mansion with a constant, rapid thudding. Lightning would occasionally flash, lighting up all the ugliest parts of the world for no more than a second, only for God to growl in disdain at what He had seen.

And all the while, the wind howled.

Inside the manor, a storm of its very own was unfolding. The lady of the house, a tall, beautiful raven-haired woman with sparkling blue eyes scampered down the slightly spiraled staircase, clutching her loose white nightgown in her one hand so that she wouldn't trip. Just behind her was her somewhat shorter, blonde husband, his jaw clenched in frustration as he stiffly stomped down the steps.

And all the while, the wind howled.

"Leonard Baxter," he growled once he reached the bottom of the staircase, speaking directly to a meek-looking fellow with dark blue-gray hair, cradling a small child in his arms. "What in the bloody hell happened to my daughter?" For indeed, the sweet girl was covered in scratches and wounds, practically coated entirely in dark, cracked red.

"Oh, Avery!" his wife gasped softly, gently removing the little girl from the other man's arms. "It's all right, Mummy's here, hush now," she cooed, running her fingers as best she could through her daughter's mess of long raven hair, just like her mother's.

"Well?" the man pressed.

"Darius, hush, you'll scare her," his wife scolded, coddling her child as though she were an infant once more.

"Evelyn, honestly, there are more important things to worry about right now." Darius fixed his cold emerald eyes on Leonard, who seemed to flinch under his gaze. "Well? Tell me!"

"Ah, s-sir will have to excuse me, but, I-" Suddenly, he was hoisted up into the air with two thick fists grabbing onto his jacket.

"Bastard! Tell me, what the bloody hell did you do to my daughter, you cur!"

"Darius!" Evelyn protested, clutching little Avery in shock.

"Sir, y-you won't believe me if I tell you!" Leonard squeaked out, pitifully trying to release himself by placing his white-gloved hands on Darius's fists. "She was attacked! She- she is now a-!"

Lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled. Evelyn screamed. Darius gasped. Leonard fell.

And all the while, the wind howled.

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><p>His shadowy form leaned casually on a boulder, twin eyes of ice peering up into Hell's forever-crimson sky. Hell, despite all its rumors of constant screaming, torment, and pain, was for the most part, empty. Conversation was rare. For the most part, Hell involved becoming a very introspective individual. With the ravenous appetite that came with being a demon, most were eager to slip through the cracks into the human world and didn't care much for being at home. But he was tired, and lonely, and felt that taking some time to himself would be worth it.<p>

Suddenly the wind slightly changed around him. "I know you're there," he hissed in their strange language to whoever it was. "Come out. Show yourself."

From behind a boulder, a smaller, wispier shadow crept out. His twin rouge eyes peeked out shyly from underneath all his darkness, and from his posture, the other knew instantly that this one hadn't been turned for long.

"New, are you?" The smaller one nodded. "Eat your first soul yet?" He shook his head 'no.' "Then, why don't I tell you a story?"

The littler demon looked somewhat puzzled – well, as puzzled as a mostly ethereal shadow could look. "A-a story?" His voice was small and squeaky, as though he wasn't used to speaking. That, too, would pass in time – and being immortal, he had all the time in the world.

"Yes," the first demon said. He patted a spot on the rock next to him, and the smaller one crawled up on top of it. "I want to tell you about one special soul. It wasn't my first, and it won't be my last, but, for me… I learned why demons are not meant to have hearts."

"What do you mean?" the younger demon asked, scratching the top of his head not out of need but of habit – he wanted to itch in confusion or a lack of understanding, and convinced himself that he was, but in truth, he didn't feel anything.

The older demon chuckled. "Forgive me. I began to ramble. But you'll learn quite a bit about being a demon from this story. Namely, why we can't try so hard to be human, no matter how much we may wish to be." The older demon turned his head and looked the younger one square in the eye. "This is a long story, I should warn you."

"I've got time," the younger one replied, crossing the legs he willed his form to make.

"We have until the end of it." A deep, thoughtful sigh. "Ah, how fleeting time is for our prey…"

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><p>Well? Did you like it, love it, hate it? Please let me know, I'd really appreciate it if you gave me critique so I can improve as a writer :) If there is something that you don't like, feel free to point it out to me, but do be gentle, I try very hard to produce good work ^^;<p>

Until next time, adieu!

-Winter


	2. Chapter One: Her Butler, Timely

**Hello again, everyone! I'm sorry the ending for the chapter is a little weak, but I wanted to get it out tonight. Why? Well, currently, I have exactly 1 hour and 29 minutes before I turn 18! So, I wanted to get this out as a birthday present to myself x3 Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler_. This story, however, is mine. No monetary gain is made from the production of this story. Please support Yana Toboso by buying the DVDs and manga.  
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><p><em><strong>Chapter One: Her Butler, Timely<strong>_

"_I got struck by lightning and thunder.  
>Wilder than the things from the tundra.<br>(Pick them up!)  
>Help me up, someone's pulling me under,<br>A scorcher. Flame on the brain, this is torture."_

_- "Torture," Crypsis feat. Luna_

She was awake, but she'd never let him know that. No, she liked to play with him, tease him, poke him and prod him and wait for his reaction. So, when she heard his slow, steady footsteps come down the hallway and stop in front of the bedroom door, she threw the blankets over her head and shut her eyes in an attempt to look like she was sleeping soundly.

He rapped his knuckles on the door three times.

"My lady, it is time for you to wake up." She covered her mouth with her hands like an excited child and attempted to not laugh, not saying a word. He waited outside for a few more moments, and when he sighed in defeat, she knew the game had officially begun. "Very well then," she heard him mutter.

With a small click, the door opened.

A few more slow, heavy steps, and then, through the thick covers, she felt his hand on her side as he gently shook her. "My lady, please, it is time for you to get up."

She let out a loud, rather obnoxious snore and tried her best to suppress the giggles. He exhaled, and she could almost picture him rolling his eyes at her childish antics. Suddenly, the covers were torn off her and she was left exposed in nothing but a too-big nightshirt and her undergarments.

She squealed and attempted to grab a sheet to cover herself. "Leonard!" she said, laughing. "That was uncalled for! Imagine if I had been sleeping!"

"My lady," her butler said, "please. I've known your all nineteen years of your life, and I know for a fact that you do not snore."

She grinned, sitting upright and letting her short, messy black hair fall into place. "What, do you mean from all the times you've shared my bed?" she asked lewdly.

He chuckled, bringing his white-gloved hand to his mouth as he did so. "I suppose, yes, that is how I know. Now, unfortunately, it is time for you to get dressed. You have a busy day ahead of you, you know."

The girl sighed wistfully as she turned to the side of her bed and allowed her butler to undo the buttons of her nightshirt originally his that she had stolen and never bothered to give back. Not that he particularly cared, of course. "Today I have, what is it, two or three cases to follow up on?"

"Three, my lady," her butler said as he peeled the unbuttoned shirt off of her, exposing her pale, slender body to the chill morning air. She fell backwards playfully, giving him a perfect view of herself – not that he hadn't been indulged with the sight before, but she liked to surprise him every now and then, the little vixen. He chuckled but said nothing, shaking his head and she was given the shirt to be worn under her usual clothing; a favorite purple suit with a dark green necktie. Yes, her manner of dress was most unusual, but then again, so was she.

She purred. "Like what you see, Leonard, darling?" A small, tinkly laugh escaped from her lips before she continued speaking. "A full-frontal view of Cedarcrest glory?"

The butler rolled his eyes. "You are such a child sometimes. Now, please, my lady, put your clothes on, before I get Tabitha to come in and help you."

The girl shuddered at the thought of the burly maid and quickly threw on the blouse. "Oh, please, not her – I swear, she has more muscle than _you._"

"Tabitha probably has more muscle than half the men in England _combined._"

"Touché, my love." Once fully dressed she stood up and turned around so that her back was facing him. "Darling, could you check…?"

He stepped close to her and examined the back of her neck. "It appears to be covered mostly, my lady," he answered.

"Do a more thorough check," she insisted. "If I'm going to be meeting around six or seven people today I have to make sure it's covered at all times, you know that as well as I do."

"You could always just sit at your desk the whole time and not turn to them."

"Yes, but then they'll think I'm so dreadfully boring and dull. Or, worse, they'll think that I'm not interested in their cases and then I'll lose business. That won't be good for anyone! Imagine that – Avery Cedarcrest, Private Investigator – with a grand total of zero clients. It would be a disaster!" She flicked her green eyes back to the butler. "So, could you check…?"

A smile crept across Leonard's face, causing the two dark marks on each one of his cheeks to turn up slightly as he did so. Most would have thought that they were sideburns from a distance, but strangely enough, the black marks were part of his skin. "Yes, of course I will." He brushed his dark bluish-gray hair out of his eyes before parting her short hair that hardly reached the base of her neck.

There, on the back of her neck, she had her own dark mark embedded in her skin. A blue pentagram branded her, decorated with symbols written in an ancient language. He touched it gently and instantly, she flinched under his touch. "Ow, Leonard, don't touch it! You know it burns when you do that!"

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his left hand and peeling off his glove. "That one smarted me a little bit as well." On the back of his left hand there was a mark identical to that on his lady's neck. He rubbed it gently until the burning sensation faded, annoyance in his light blue eyes as he did so. "These marks are rather troublesome…"

"Is it covered enough?" Avery asked, clutching her tie in her hands and wringing it nervously.

He looked up from his moment of slight distraction. "Oh, yes, it's covered, my lady. I raised your shirt collar a bit underneath your jacket so that way if you turn around, no one will be able to see it."

A sigh of relief caused all the muscles in her body to relax. "Good," she said. "I don't mind having it, but I can't let anyone else know about it."

"I know, my lady, I know." He walked over to her and gently embraced her, burying his young-looking face in her raven hair. "It will only be a few hours, and then you won't have to worry anymore."

She let her arms fall around his waist lazily, leaning her soft, smooth cheek against his lightly toned chest. "I know, Leonard, I know…" Her voice trailed off into nothing as she buried her face in his chest. Her butler pulled her closer than he already had her and sat down on the edge of her bed, letting her fall into his lap gently.

"Is something else troubling you, my lady?" Leonard asked in a low voice, gently rubbing her back.

"Just… stop talking. That's an order." With a slight frown, he did as he was told, and a few moments later she turned her head up to face him, touched his cheek with her soft fingertips, and placed a kiss on his lips. The butler eagerly accepted, tightening his grip on her. They sat like that for a few moments before Leonard, in a fit of playfulness, pulled Avery down onto the bed and rolled on top of her, never once allowing their lips to part. She giggled and reached up, tangling her fingers in his short, bluish hair and pulled him down by wrapping her legs around his hips.

That is, until a loud knock on the door scared the living daylights out of them.

"Hey, enough face-sucking, you two!" a woman with a very thick Scottish accent called out. "Get to work! We 'aven't got all day!"

The young couple turned their heads with expressions of horror on their faces at having been caught in the act. "Y-yes, Tabitha…" they both said weakly.

"Good," the thickly-accented maid said, swinging a large bag of linens over her wide shoulders and adjusting the white cap atop her short brown hair that was kept in a messy bun. "Then I'll be goin' to change the sheets, right?"

"Ah, y-yes, those are your, um, instructions for today," Leonard responded, attempting to sound professional – but really, can one sound professional after having been walked in on making out with one's lover?

"Right then, carry on!" And with that she turned and left. Leonard and Avery stared blankly at the door before looking at each other, still in the same position as before, and bursting out into good-natured laughter.

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><p>"Thank you, Mr. Jatter, come again next week," Avery called out as her second client of the day left the office. She slumped in her seat, exhausted. "Leonard, remind me to get an office closer to the mansion. Traveling to London by carriage every day is rather stressful…"<p>

"Am I that bad a chauffeur, my lady?" he asked inquisitively, pouring her a small cup of tea as he stood by her desk.

"You almost ran us into a _tree_, Leonard." An annoyed glance was directed at the butler as she said this.

"They're wild, what can I tell you?"

"It was a _dead_ tree!"

A cheery laugh escaped from his lips as he handed her the cup. "Well, my being a horrible driver shouldn't worry you," he assured her before getting on one knee and placing his left hand over his heart, and the other on her knee. "I have sworn on my honor as a butler and on my contract to you-"

"To protect me at all costs. I know," she said, petting his hair like a kitten.

"Even if it costs me my life," he finished, letting his hand creep up her leg on the inside of her thigh. Playfully, his mistress gave him a flick on the forehead, causing him to shake his head slightly, a small collar around his neck with a silver bell on it jingling as he did so.

"Yes, well, let's hope that you aren't daft enough to go and get yourself killed for my sake, hm?" She grabbed his hand as it was about to rub up against her crotch and placed it at his side. "And stop with that, we'll have plenty of time for that later tonight." A huge grin came across her butler's face as she said this.

Just then, the bell on the office's door tinkled and Leonard literally jumped to his feet just in time for it to open. Avery turned in her seat and crossed her legs in a very intimidating manner, establishing quickly that she called the shots in this establishment. "Afternoon," she said. "How can I help you?"

A meek-looking older man with silvering hair and a long, scraggly beard looked at her in slight surprise. "A-are you Avery Cedarcrest?" he asked. Normally such a question would have irritated Avery – of course she was, it said so on the door and on the small golden plate that sat on her desk – but she could tell that this question wasn't about whether or not she actually was the owner of the establishment.

"Indeed, sir, I am," she replied, clasping her hands together. "What brings you here?"

"I-I must admit, madam-" the old man started to say, but she cut him off.

"Please, Ms. Cedarcrest will do."

"Eh, fine then, Ms. Cedarcrest." Suddenly the old man's expression changed slightly and he removed his hat to reveal a smooth, balding head covered in age spots. "Ah, I'm sorry, I've forgotten my manners completely! My name is Harold Quigley."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Quigley. If I recall, you and my butler spoke on the telephone last Wednesday?" she said, gesturing to the man at her left.

"Uh, y-yes, I suppose I did speak with him at that time, yes…"

"Then, this is the murder case you wanted to meet with me about?"

"It is." He sighed. "My wife, Rhonda… She was brutally torn apart by someone, but there was no evidence to a killer. Scotland Yard's been working on her case for weeks but so far we've heard nothing…" A tear slipped down the old man's cheek, the faint crystal sneaking its way through the wrinkles like a tiny raindrop falling down the face of an ancient precipice. "I-I can't just sit by and let whoever did this get away with it." He looked up, desperation in his pleading hazel eyes. "Please, Ms. Cedarcrest, I know this is a lot to ask of you, but could I ask you to take this case for me? I can pay you. It won't be much but I can."

She raised her hand, indicating him to stop talking. "Please, Mr. Quigley, that's enough."

"Eh?" He was confused, clearly.

A warm smile rose to the young lady's features. "You think I take my cases based solely on what I'll gain? Dear sir, you think so little of me."

"I beg your pardon?"

She rose to her feet and grinned good-naturedly. "Mr. Quigley, I'll be quite frank – I'm well-off enough that this business is for my own amusement. I have absolutely no need to worry about money. I take cases that pique my interest, or those I deem to be incredibly important. Your case, fortunately, meets both those criteria." She extended her hand. "Mr. Quigley – no, I think I'll call you Harold, if you will be so kind as to call me Avery – I will take your case, and don't worry about payment."

"Ah, th-thank you, Ms. Cedarcrest!" Harold Quigley said, grasping her outstretched hand in his leathery ones and giving it a hearty shake, his expression one of pure and utter relief, hope now replacing the desperation that had once dwelled in his eyes.

Avery laughed. "What did I just say? We're on a first-name basis now, Harold."

The old man grinned a semi-toothless grin. "Right, then, thank you, Avery." He released her hand. "How can I ever thank you?"

"Don't thank me just yet, I've barely even begun investigating." She pulled a very small card from a drawer on her desk, scribbled on it for a moment with a pen, and then handed it to him. "Take this, it has my number on it. Feel free to give us a ring anytime, and we will call you once we start getting some leads."

Quigley nodded eagerly. "Th-thank you! I unfortunately must be on my way now, but thank you! Thank you so much!" And he bolted out the door as best he could for an old man.

"Cheers," she called as he closed the door behind him. "Well, he seems like a nice old man, don't you think so, Leonard?"

"Indeed, but I must say, you took on that case rather quickly," her butler remarked. "Usually it takes you more than five minutes to discern whether it's worth your interest or not."

"I know," she responded, looking out at the busy streets of London somewhat distractedly. "But there is a certain allure to it, don't you think so?"

"Hm? I'm afraid I don't see what you mean."

"Think about it, Leonard. Scotland Yard isn't making any progress. This isn't the first case where people have been torn to shreds with no evidence of a killer. Imagine what people will say about them when a tiny little detective agency solves a case of this scale." The raven-haired girl turned, a look in her eyes that was somewhere in the middle of malice and mischief. "Wouldn't you love to, in a way, be superior to even the Crown?"

A deep, sinister laugh emanated from the butler's throat. "Indeed, my lady."

Avery turned to the window again. "It is getting late, we should start on our way home."

"I had to leave the carriage behind the office, I'm afraid we'll have to walk that distance."

"You make it sound as though something as trivial as that would bother me." She laughed. "I have no fear of walking, even at night."

"Why is that, my lady?" the butler asked, smoothing a wrinkle out of his navy-blue jacket as he spoke.

"I have you to protect me, do I not?" Leonard nodded. "Then I have no reason to fear. It's that simple. Now," she added, turning and walking towards the door, "let's be on our way, shall we?"

"Let's," Leonard said, opening the door and allowing his lady to exit the building first.

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><p>The pair were about halfway to where Leonard had left the carriage when, suddenly, a very ragged-looking man with greasy brown hair, a tattered coat, and soiled pants leapt out in front of them. He held a small knife in his hand and pointed it half an inch away from Avery's nose. "H-hey, you!" he stuttered, obviously drunk. "E-empty your pockets, y'hear?"<p>

Avery rolled her eyes as though the threat was nothing more than seeing a spider crawl up her bedroom wall. "Leonard, see to this," she instructed.

A sinister, pink gleam rose to his eyes. "Yes, Your Grace," he said in a low, husky tone. Slowly, determinedly, he began to walk over to the man. "And what do we have here? A dirty street rat?"

The man stumbled backwards, fumbling with the knife in his hands. "Wh-what the fuck are you doin'?"

"Dear me, such foul language," Leonard purred. "Now, I simply can't have that in the presence of my lady." Avery smirked at this, crossing her arms and looking on interestedly from a slight distance. "Although, perhaps you could lead me back to your den of rats? I'm awfully good at sniffing them out…" Leonard then grabbed the man's wrist so that he dropped his knife, then promptly lifted him and threw him against a wall.

"The fu- Ugh…" the drunk slurred, slipping into a state of unconsciousness.

"You get 'em, tiger," Avery said, patting her butler on the back as she continued to walk down the street.

The butler simply chuckled. "Was the double meaning of that statement intentional?"

"Would I have it any other way?"

"Very true."

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><p><strong>Well, I hope you enjoyed it! Also, I made a very small nod to the absolutely phenomenal webcomic <em>JACK<em> by David Hopkins/DripRat. Can you find it?**

**Anyway, my being a fangirl aside, please review and tell me what you did and didn't like about this chapter - in a constructive way of course :) As always, I'd love to improve as a writer however I can ^^**

**-Winter  
><strong>


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